


Lingerie

by stephanericher



Series: KiriDai Everyone [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Lingerie, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:37:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3106169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise has (is?) a lacy reward for his upperclassmen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lingerie

I.

Damn, Ryouta looks good in women’s underwear. The lacy bra covers his flat chest and actually kind of makes it look like he’s got cleavage, and somehow the thin straps look perfect on his broad shoulders. The stockings accentuate his calf muscles and the black garters stand out starkly against his pale skin, attached by taut black elastic to a lacy thong that sits low on Ryouta’s hips.

“Senpai,” he purrs, tiptoeing across the floor.

Kentarou raises an eyebrow and leans back against the wall. He’s still only in a towel himself, having just taken a long shower after the game.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Senpai played well today, so I have a reward for him.”

“And what might that be?”

Ryouta leans forward, forehead almost touching Kentarou’s flyaway bangs. “I’m pretty sure a smart guy like you can figure it out.”

Kentarou hums and taps his fingers against the waistband of the thong, inching them backward. Ryouta smirks and kisses him, placing a hand on Kentarou’s wet shoulder. Kentarou opens his mouth and deepens the kiss, pulling Ryouta closer, groping Ryouta’s ass and pulling at the thong. Ryouta whines and brings down his hands, loosening the towel around Kentarou’s waist. Kentarou bites Ryouta’s  neck, shallow enough so Ryouta won’t complain about having to cover it up for his next photo shoot, and starts fiddling with the hooks on the bra. Ryouta’s already hard, leaning his head back and exposing his throat, and it won’t be long before he’s moaning like a porn star. Kentarou doesn’t usually go for flashy things, but somehow he doesn’t mind when it’s Ryouta. And besides, he can’t be all that discerning when his cock is doing the thinking for him and his hair is in his face and Ryouta’s mouth is flooding his ears with sound. 

* * *

II.

Hanamiya licks his lips as he pulls the sock slowly down Kise’s calf; Kise rocks his hips and Hanamiya glares, seemingly slowing down the pace even further. When he finally has it off, he grabs Kise’s arms and ties them behind his back with the sock. He walks around the bench smirking, looking at Kise from all angles—what a sight he must be, messy hair and half-undone bra, garter belt still attached to his sagging left sock, dragging against the floor, hard-on making a clearly visible bulge in his panties. Hanamiya, apparently satisfied with the view, hops up on the bench. He walks toward Kise, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock.

He’s already hard and wet, and he doesn’t even have to say the word before Kise starts sucking—belatedly, he wonders if that will get him some sort of punishment but he doesn’t really care because Hanamiya tastes good and his cock fits perfectly in Kise’s mouth, settles its shape against the middle of his tongue. He wants to make Hanamiya come, wants this power, to combine all of his desires and lusts together. Kise’s dick is straining against the panties and his wrists are straining against the sock that ties them together and he probably has enough power to rip the nylon with his own skin but he won’t. It’s more fun this way, Hanamiya’s fingers in his hair and face between those firm thighs, taking Hanamiya’s balls in his mouth, too, filling himself up as much as he can.

* * *

 

III.

Yamazaki’s mouth is moving but no sound is coming out; he’s like a deer caught in the headlights or maybe a fish out of water (not a dead one like Furuhashi). Kise’s grin widens as he slinks across the floor, all-too-aware of the way the cool air hits his exposed skin except on the small areas covered by the bra and panties, and he bats his eyelashes at Yamazaki.

“Hey, Baby,” Kise whispers, hooking his fingers through Yamazaki’s belt loops and pulling him closer, rubbing their groins together.

Yamazaki makes a strangled sort of yowling sound as Kise rolls his hips and sticks one leg between Yamazaki’s, creating too much friction on his inner thighs for Yamazaki to be able to function.

Yamazaki’s shaky fingers reach out to play with the waistband on the panties, to roll them down, and even as Kise grinds harder Yamazaki pulls them down as far as they’ll go with Kise’s leg still stuck between Yamazaki’s. Kise’s hands are still in Yamazaki’s belt loops and he has no intention of unzipping Yamazaki’s trousers anytime soon. Yamazaki’s face is red and he’s obviously hard himself, but then he brushes his fingers over the top of Kise’s cock and Kise rocks back on his heels, fingers loosening their hold. That feels damn good. He forgets sometimes, how good Yamazaki is with his fingers, how much he uses them to play video games and to send basketballs flying from his fingers through the hoop or at someone’s head, straight toward the target. He’s good; he’s expressive with just one or two digits, and he’s got all ten of them now working on Kise’ five wiggling on Kise’s cock and five more reaching behind to inch toward Kise’s ass. The sighs that escape Kise’s mouth are embarrassing, but he doubts Yamazaki’s going to remember all that much about this moment, judging from his glazed eyes and the size of the bulge in his pants and the faltering of his fingers on Kise.

* * *

 

IV.

There had been nothing in Furuhashi’s eyes; there’s never anything in Furuhashi’s eyes. He’d buried his face in Kise’s chest, licking underneath the lacy edges of the bra, as soon as he could, and had moved his dexterous fingers around Kise’s ass, pressing and pinching, pulling his tong up against him, teasing him way too hard—Kise’s not ready; he needs to get off; he wore this lingerie ensemble because he thought Furuhashi would think it was hot (or that maybe he’d actually show some sort of facial reaction, although the rest of his body has more than enough approval to dispense).

“Hmm…you like it, huh, Furuhashi-san?”

“Nothing of the sort,” says Furuhashi, looking up from Kise’s chest with the usual placid expression.

His face doesn’t change as he slides a finger inside Kise’s hole, and then another, scissoring them and loosening Kise up.

He’ll never admit it, but Kise knows anyway. And that’s really all that matters.

* * *

 

V.

“I like the color,” says Hara. “Nice choice. Kinda reminds me of someone.”

Of course it’s no accident that Kise chose a pale mauve bra and panty set decorated with bows, almost an exact match for Hara’s hair. Wearing stuff like this feels weird, even after Kise’s worn so many different uncomfortable things for photo shoots. He can’t just grin and bear it now; there’s something tugging on his insides, somewhat similar to the proverbial stomach doing flips.

Hara’s seen him in less than this before, many times, has slapped his bare ass and fucked him against the shower walls and on top of both of their beds, has voiced his approval for Kise’s body. But this, this is different, somehow, more…intimate?

He sighs when Hara kisses him, fingers ghosting over his waist to settle on the small of his back. Kise tries to grind into Hara, into the kiss, but Hara pushes him back.

“Uh-uh. Be patient.”

Usually Kise loves it when Hara teases him, runs his fingers all over Kise’s body and works him up slowly, but not now. Just putting on the lingerie has gotten him halfway hard and very impatient, and Hara’s touch is enough to excite him even more but not enough to actually get anywhere, and frustration is building up inside of him along with need.

“Please…please…”

Hara doesn’t particularly like it when he begs, but he should perhaps have been more attuned to Kise’s mood. Right now, he doesn’t care at all, just as long as he gets more than just this.

Hara slides his hands up under the bra and squeezes both of his nipples and Kise shrieks, spreading his legs even wider. Hara’s smirk shows teeth, and Kise smirks back. It’s finally on.

* * *

VI.

Ryouta’s not quite sure how he ended up in this position, how he let Hara and Furuhashi talk him into wearing women’s underwear that somehow is just his size, how all of the other regulars had cornered him in the locker room and started touching and licking him, how he’d let them (that one is less of a mystery; he’s known since he got here how attractive all of them were and how much he’d wanted them all, at once or separately, whichever way; he’s been thinking of them when he closes his eyes and increases the pace as he strokes his cock) and how he’s right here, riding Seto’s cock with Hanamiya sucking him off and Hara’s and Furuhashi’s dicks in his mouth and Yamazaki grinding against his back, bra hanging off one shoulder and panties torn (it’s a waste of such a good outfit, especially when he looks so good in it, although they’ve all got enough disposable income to pay for a replacement if they ever feel the need again). He can’t make a sound through his full mouth; all he can do is rock his body and slide his tongue up and down and jerk into Makoto’s warm mouth.

Actually, he wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime; it feels fucking awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr


End file.
